The Diary Of Legolas Greenleaf
by EbonyBeach
Summary: Chapter 2 up! This is inspired by something I found on the web, basically a humourous insight into Legolas's diary and the adventures of the Fellowship. R&R plz!
1. 1

I know some of these events are in the wrong order, but that's how I want it, so that's how it is, ok? Lol!  
  
I don't own Tolkiens (gr8 man) characters, only their nicknames and some of Legolas's peeps from Mirkwood. Enjoy! Hana X  
  
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Diary Of Legolas Greenleaf  
  
Dear Diary,  
Father is a Middle Earth-loving, concerned, caring and all round nice guy - that's why I hate him. He's sending me off to Rivendell to see good old Uncle Elly, for some business about repellent-looking Sauron and the end of the world. Why couldn't he send one of my sisters? Mowenna has always had a thing for ugly guys - look at her bond-mate Tichwen. He could scare Sam, and believe me, that hobbit takes a lot of scaring. He wasn't even afraid of Frodo when he got that huge boil on his nose. I would have died! I've always said hobbits were made of strong stuff. (Terrible skin though. I must tell Frodo, when I next see him, to let me try out my rejuvenating 'fifty percent less wrinkles in just fourteen days' cream. Great stuff, that. Mind you, it's not cheap. Maybe Frodo will be at this meeting thing. Hmm...)  
Anyway, am depressed and mad, as have been instructed to 'travel light'. This means only four suitcases, I presume. Might be quite a challenge to get everything in. Maybe I should go pack. Or maybe I'll just stay here in front of this mirror for a while longer. Aaah.  
  
Dear Diary,  
Left Mirkwood very early, and am now concerned that I have not had enough beauty sleep. Mother, the Valar bless her soul, never had enough. She went out nearly every night with the Maidens and came home blind drunk at three a.m. Evil stuff, alcohol. I never touch it, plays havoc with your insides. I have been put off ever since Erolle Browntree teased me about my name at school. Ugly prick. He thought he was so good in his (fake) Pradu elf-loafers and Armuni robe, its fine silk swishing like a waterfall, the deep blue... Not that I was jealous, of course.  
His teasing has scarred me for life though. Just 'cause I was the Prince and had a name that sounded like I was a drunkard. Stupid Erolle Stupid Browntree. I hear he closely resembles an orc now though, so justice has been delivered. Hehehe. (Note to self - must stop cackling, may be seriously damaging angelic vocal chords).  
Am tired and annoyed. 'Travelling light' meant only a blanket roll and whatever else I could fit in my horse's saddlebags. This included, in order of importance: mirror, hairbrush, gel, straightners, rejuvenating moisturiser, tweezers, shampoo, conditioner, rose-scented soap, toothbrush, mouthwash, and a nail file. Oh, and my eyelash curlers of course. That meant leaving out all the essentials - blonde dye no. 12 (I'll just have to hope no one notices my roots), many, many, many hair products, clear nail varnish, concealer, after sun (you never know, it might be hot wherever we're going), and some minor things like clean underwear and food.  
The journey's passing quickly, thank goodness. I think my horse and I make a good team. The gleaming sheet of shimmering blonde hair, pearlescent white teeth, bright eyes and lovely shaped eyebrows... and the horse, Loreal (named after my favourite shampoo, and no other), a beautiful chestnut roan with a black mane.  
Oh, you thought he had blonde hair and white teeth? Hehehe. (Damnit, the cackle. Oh well, I'll have surgery when I get to Rivendell. I stole Father's credit card! Go me!)  
  
Dear Diary,  
Have arrived in Rivendell. Lovely place, shame about the decor. Personally, I would have gone more for the bright pinks and purples - Earth shades really don't do it for me anymore.  
Uncle Elly was in a foul mood and an even fouler gown, so I left him to it and went to see cousin Arwen. Except she was 'otherwise occupied' with a man in her bedchamber. I wonder what they were up to. Feel a wicked plan forming in clever brain. Uncle Elly disapproves of his beloved daughter and her human 'friends'. I think it is only my civic duty to alert him to her activities. After all, we don't want Lord Elrond mad, do we? He might turn me into a toad. Or worse, he might make me the living image of Boromir. What have I done to deserve such a terrible and painful fate?  
Plan halted abruptly, as just spotted my hair in a mirror and screamed. Three strands - three! - were out of place. Aaah, that's better. Now I look perfectly little old me again. Who really cares if he turns me into Boro-what's-his-face? I'll just sit here and stare for a while at myself. If Uncle does get angry, I shall just charm my way out with some unspoken promises from my father's friend Frederich. He's so gay he could curdle trolls' milk, and I hear the Lord of Rivendell is getting lonely in his old age, not enough women of 6000 years for his liking. Plenty of men though...... I think I'd make a good matchmaker.  
  
Later on......  
Was called to silly meeting about silly ring. Frodo was there, but despite my advice, he still hasn't shaved his disgusting hairy feet. Yuck - I mean, get a Gillette Mach 3 Turbo! Anyway, lots of dwarves, men, and a wizard were there. I found the whole occasion rather snoreful, though it does seem it was a conference on how to save the world. No matter, I'll ask one of the others for a recap later. I just happened to be listening to the bit when Boromir insulted my good (but rather whiffy) friend Aragorn. I was fast to act and have to say, saved the day. Go me!  
In the end, I ended up volunteering to go to Mordor (bad place that and I suspect the humidity from the volcano will make my hair frizz. I knew I should have left the Straightners and brought the John Freida Frizz Ease Serum instead. Blast!). Anyway, it's done now so I shall have to live with it. Coming with us are Aragorn (poor Stinky, he really should get a shower), Frodo (I must remember to tell Boily about the cream, he had another huge spot), Gandalf (but I prefer to call him Dalfy, much to his annoyance), Boromir (I foresee evil in Ugly, great evil), Gimli, (I think his name shall have to Carrot-Top from now on), and Sam (Homey), Pippin (Stuff-Your- Face), and Merry (not decided on a nickname for him yet. There's nothing really bad about him, nothing to criticise. Well, there will be something, there's something wrong with everyone except me, of course. Curly will do.).  
So, we're The Fellowship Of The Ring. Sounds posh, doesn't it? We are to set out tomorrow. Early. So that means another night deprived of beauty sleep. No matter. There'll be time aplenty in Mordor, I suppose. That reminds me, I must go and look it up on the map in the library. When I said we had plenty of time to set out, everyone stared at me oddly. It seems that Mordor is not just on the other side of the river after all.  
  
Still Later......  
Will Aragorn and Arwen never give it a rest? They were at it in the library when I went (it seems Mordor is a long way away *sigh*) and now they're on the bridge. It's a public eyesore. I think it must have been him in her bedroom before as well. What does he think he is, an animal? Well, he's almost there.  
They were talking just now above the water and I took it upon myself to eavesdrop - as you do. They spoke in Elvish (do they not realise that, in a land of Elves, everyone can clearly understand them?) and were going on about love and forsaking lives. It all sounded rather dodgy to me, and when his whiskery mouth took hers in a snoggy-snoggy-kiss-kiss, I was almost sick. They practically ate each other's faces off! I mean, get a room! (Or a pillow!)  
I'm laughing at my own joke now. I'm so funny. Hee Hee, Legolas is great! Heee Heee Heeeee.  
  
Dear Diary,  
Have fallen out with Uncle Elrond. He called me evil and told me to 'get a grip', just because I tried to take the ring from Frodo. It's so unfair - why does he get to carry the nice shiny ring? Legolas want. Humph.  
  
Dear Diary,  
MAJOR DISASTER! Was forced to leave all styling products, toiletries, hairbrush and mirror at Rivendell. Aaaargh! Feel about to explode with despair! Hair a mess, face a mess, life a mess!  
  
Dear Diary,  
Yet again, Legolas saves the day! We were outside this dank looking mine called Moria (pretty name, shame about the look) when this huge, fearsome, blood-curdling sea monster attacked Boily and pals. Well, as everyone stood around in shock, I leapt into action with my sturdy bow and shot him right in the eyeball. Go me!  
It did involve getting my lovely Pradu loafers (Yes, Erolle, at least mine are real!) wet and dirty, but they'll dry. Carrot-Top says there are huge fires and food and drink inside this dirty mountain. Beauty sleep here I come.  
If we can get in. Dalfy in all his 'Wisdom' doesn't seem at all as clever as me. He can't even remember every spell in every tongue of Dwarves, Elves and Men. Honestly, I learnt that at the age of two. Alright, two thousand, but still. Disappointed in him. We could do better.  
  
Minutes Later.  
Am beginning to wish I hadn't saved Boily and we had all died instead. In the nick of time Boily, bless him, solved the riddle and we dashed in. Unfortunately for us all. This place, cleverly encapsulated by Ugly - 'This is no mine; it's a tomb!', is indeed a tomb. There are bodies strewn everywhere and, because I am so clever, I could tell immediately that it was goblins' doings. Pesky goblins, always killing before you get the chance.  
Oh how I love murdering helpless beings! Stinky has just called me a sadist but I am a good elf and ignore him completely. I can literally feel my pores clogging up with this rank air. What they need is a good extractor fan. That'll sort out the smell too. Oh no, that's just 'cause Stinky is walking behind me. Silly me!  
  
Just been attacked by a troll, orcs, and a huge fire-y thing called a Balrog. I think he needs contact lenses, his whip missed Dalfy by miles. I know a good optician back in Mirkwood. Each pair of his contact lenses last for over a hundred years. And you can get them in loads of different colours, orc eyes and trolls and even orange-y sauron ones. May ask for some of those for my two thousand, six hundred and thirty second birthday. Yeah... They'd make me even more feared. Hehehe... (Shut up!)  
  
Forgot all about silly contact lenses, as Dalfy dead.  
  
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Aww, did u like it? yes or no, review! More to come soon! 


	2. 2

Dear Diary,  
Staying in Lothlorien at the mo. Want to cry for poor old Dalfy but fear it will blemish my skin and ruin centuries of carefully managed bagless-circles under eyes. Hair gone to waste. Pretty Elves singing a lament for Gandalf, and I feel like a nice deep-cleansing spa bath. Aah, there's a nice looking pool over there......  
  
Later......  
Galadriel chucked me out of her private Jacuzzi and I was revealed in all my beautiful nakedness. Many stared, especially Homey. On second thoughts, maybe that's a bad thing. Uh oh, now I fear the worst.  
Oh well, at least I got my hair washed, if only with cheap shampoo from the Co-op. It smells of that stuff that the servants in our palace use to wash dishes. I'm not exactly sure, really. I've never visited their quarters. Too grim. Anyway, hair looks good. A bit tousled and wavy from the heat of this enchanted forest, a bit frizzy. More and more I find myself wishing for John Freida..... Aargh!  
  
Later......  
I am not Galadriel's favourite person and for the immortal life of me I can't think why. All I did was (try to) style my hair in her bowl of water. (She said it was a special mirror but I just saw shiny liquid.) Anyway, she kicked my firmed buttocks with a pointy-toed black stiletto knee boot, and I fear I may have a mark. Evil Elf Queen.  
And then I was tucking into some yummy lembas bread (I know it's a step down from caviar and grilled dragon wings) when Boily snatched it off me and began hissing. 'My bread, it's mine, it is. My preciousssssssssss...'  
While he was doing this, I quietly ran for my immortal life. Weird folk, my companions, very weird. There's Homey singing about fireworks (his voice sounds like sandpaper! Hang on, do we have sandpaper? What is paper anyway? We have parchment, don't we? Confused!), Curly and Stuffy arguing about some things called warts (apparently they're hard lumps that you get on your hands and feet. *Shiver* Well, I have to say I've never experienced this infirmity, and hope never to. I suspect they will be likely to last for millenia, and are not things I want to have polluting my perfect body for the rest of my immortality!), Ugly crying (It's not doing your ugliness any good - screwing your face up like that gives you wrinkles), Carrot-Top snoring so loudly that he's shaking all the non-existent dust-fibres out of my very expensive gown and Stinky - well, not being stinky! I think Celeborn (great guy, shame about his taste in women) must have had Isildur's Heir walk through a curtain of enchanted water or something - he smells like lavender and elanor. And it's strangely attractive. Maybe I should try it. Rose scent does get a bit boring after two thousand years.....  
Anyway, am tired, sad, distressed, lonely and miserable. But, on the bright side I'm a) not any of my companions, and b) the most gorgeous Elf that ever lived! Yay! Maybe there is some good in this world afterall.  
  
Dear Diary,  
Have left Lorien and are currently boating on the Anduin. I feel my biceps gaining mass by the second - and well they should, rowing Carrot-Top along. He's like a lead weight - only ginger.  
Actually, I have recently gained a subtle respect for him - did I just admit that out loud? Don't tell the dwarf! Anyway, we were given gifts by Galadriel and he had the decency enough not to blurt out a request for dark hair dye (which he really should have done), but instead he looked at the ground and politely asked for a lock of her golden hair. When I asked him about it, he said she'd given him three. Bless! Carrot-Top has a crush on the evil Elf-witch! Well, he's welcome to her! I'll be a virgin all my life - father says women give you premature worry lines, and I do not want any of those, thank you very much!  
  
Later......  
Camping on the riverside. Stinky (yes, sadly it seems his manly essence of sweat and grime is too overwhelming for the delicate fragrance of lavender and elanor) thinks we will be safe here from orcs on the other shore, but it is not that bank I fear...... I'm increasingly anxious about these foul creatures now - if they do attack us, I fear I may get orc blood on my bow! Maybe even on my gown! The Valar forbid on my hair..... Aaaagh!  
  
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Wasn't sure whether to continue this, I don't think its as good as the first chapter, what do you think?? Hana X 


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